uncanny valley for the soul

Tesla’s man-made horrors beyond our comprehension later being called Teslas…… someone should write a joke about that.

Consumption really is killing art.

There are names in the sidewalk
Of people I’ll never meet
There are old fossils too
Of bones and shells and feet

One day someone will read me
And feel less alone
I am young now, and want
Someday to be stone

C.M

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I don't think I can write from happiness because something about perfection making bad art.

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Sell goodness to the greatest known divine
Ticket and keep them in orderly line
The straightest lines make the sharpest angles
The sweetest demons were once angels

C.M.

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